


Oh Lord, heal this bruise

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley falls out of bed at 4 am, Grumpy Crowley, M/M, ineffable husbands, super short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 16:44:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20361778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Oh Lord, heal this bruise

Crammed in the narrow space between Aziraphale and the edge of the bed, Crowley wakes up feeling like he’s falling. Thankfully, not from grace this time but from the bed. From the king size bed that he and his husband are sleeping on these days, he’s slipped off its edge and is now falling down onto the floor, hitting it with a loud thump. A string of curses follows.

“Everything alright, my dear?” 

Aziraphale peeks over the edge of the bed, taking in his state of utter annoyance at being awaken so roughly and he smiles sheepishly.

“How many times, angel? How many bloody fucking times - keep to your side of the bed!” 

He glares at the quickly forming bruise on his hip.

“Let me take a look at that,” Aziraphale suggests, reaching out his hand to the bluish spot.

Crowley slaps it away.

“No, thank you. I don’t need your help.”

Aziraphale frowns at his grumpy husband.

“You do, love,” he points out and moves his hand over the injury again. Crowley doesn’t interfere this time but presses his lips in quite disapproval. 

As he watches Aziraphale gently work on him, his anger fades away as if it’s never been there in the first place. 

It is 4 am and yes, he was just thrown out of his own bed but he was thrown out by Aziraphale, his husband, who’s now taking care of him with such tenderness and love he wouldn’t mind falling all over again. 

“Aaand gone. Does it still hurt?”

Crowley rolls his eyes. He climbs back into the bed, specifically on top of Aziraphale because, let’s be honest, that’s probably the only safe way he can sleep with Aziraphale without fearing hitting the floor again.

“Yes, my selfish, space-hoarding angel,” he says and kisses him, “it fucking does.”


End file.
